Three Little Kittens Golden Book Novels & Stories

“There, so beautiful.” I hold the end of the leash and give a tug, pulling her off the chair and down to her knees. She gasps, grabbing her neck in horror. “Is this—is this…?” She was on the verge of hyperventilating. “Breathe. You're hardly a pet without a collar. Be on your best manners, Kitten, and I won't tug too hard.”

Brianna’s little hands grasp ours like we're a family. “Alright, Bri,” I start, holding the book out in front of us. “What story are we reading tonight?” “The princess and the frog!” she declares, eyes sparkling. Kevin groans dramatically. “You always read that!” I smirk, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “How dare you complain about such a masterpiece?” As I read, I exaggerate voices, making Kevin act as a cute frog, Brianna squeals in delight, clutching her blanket tighter when I narrate the part where Tiana becomes a frog too.

I clench my jaw, but I smile at my mother. The pet shop is twenty minutes away, in a slightly run‑down retail park. We go in. The smell of litter and kibble greets us. Cages are lined up: dogs barking softly, cats purring, rabbits nibbling. My mother stops in front of the kittens. There's a litter of five: three tabbies, one white, one little black one with golden eyes who stares at me curiously. — Look at her, my mother says, eyes shining. She looks like a little queen.

I noticed it’s in an old arabic script, I forgot how much my sister loved the book of the gods and learnt to read old Arabic as she never trusted the translation. My Aunt Lil takes the book from her kissing her head, Emerald shrinks back to her seat, she hates all eyes on her. I turn back as my mother asks if aunt Lil can read it, with a look that says seriously. Aunt Lil whispers a spell and we all watch as the old writing bends and reshapes into our language.

The kittens and bigger cats crowded around us, meowing and purring. "Their all so pretty." She pet a golden kitten and it snuggled against her. She then pet a black and white cat and it jumped into her lap. Her eyes seemed to be mainly on those two. "Shuffle these two." Wren closed her eyes and I switched the cats seating areas around a few times. "You can pick now." She took a deep breath, causing the woman to chuckle. Wren pointed at the golden kitten and smiled.

"Kiddies, kiddies." When I pull back the blanket, I'm right and his kiddies are kittens. Five of the most adorable things you've ever seen. They can't be more than a few weeks old. There's a can of powdered milk on the ground and a dry tin plate with a water and milk mixture next to it. I step inside and quickly search for weapons. I find books and small trinkets along with a picture. I lift the frame of three people. It's a man and woman with a small girl between them. He probably found it.

Horatio explains. And there it is, all the girls squeal when he shows them pictures of the litter of kittens. I can feel Elayni staring at me; I know that means she wants one. It might not be a bad idea. I look at the kittens, and they actually have fur. They actually look like little leopards. Horatio tells them that these kittens are a week old and that he will bring them here when they are old enough to be away from their mother. Uncle Grayston has Alphas Dillion and Gideon on the computer. Travian is also on the screen. He couldn’t be here since their egg has been very active, and they think it will hatch anytime. “Well, what did the three of you find?” I ask.

"Goodnight, Pudding." He hadn't answered. She'd heard him exhale through his nose—not a sigh, something closer to surrender. "You're really like a cat, you know that?" She'd looked up. "I'm not." "You curl up. Demand attention. Leave when you've had enough." "I don't demand—" He was looking at her with an expression she couldn't read. "Fine. Maybe a little." He'd turned back to his book. She'd gone back to her editing. Later, when he went into the room to sleep, he whispered a word:

“It’s… fragile.” Her eyes widened, and she carefully untied the bow, her fingers trembling with anticipation. When the ribbon fell away, she lifted the lid slowly, and the box moved. She yelped in surprise, pulling the lid off completely. Inside was a tiny, fluffy calico kitten, a patchwork of black, gray, orange, and white. Its wide blue eyes looked up at her, and it let out a pitiful little “Meeeeow!” “Oh! Ohhh!” Kathrine gasped, scooping the kitten into her arms. It clung to her bright green shirt with its tiny claws, mewling softly. “She’s so cute and tiny and…!”

How could he possibly know that Levi didn’t like cat species as a whole, but just liked specific cat-like individuals that might be or might not be cats? Noah, an avid lover of everything fluffy, was very satisfied with that answer. His eyes curved with delight, “Aren’t kittens the cutest?” Also, bunnies! Bunnies!! ❤ ❤ Levi nodded, showing his most sincere agreement, “Mn.” Kittens were little cats. The little guy was little and a cat, so he was a kitten. Since he was the cutest, then indeed, kittens were the cutest. As proven by his flawless logic, the statement was universally true. 👍